The Delaware ledger. (Newark, Del.) 1879-19??, 1887-11-12
IN THE DENVER STAGE.

Ten years ago the excitement of
the day in Denver, Colo, reached its
climax, when Capt. Bill Cummings
drove the Leadville coach out of the
stable yard and pulled up in front of
the United States hotel. In antici-
patton of the great daily event a
crowd always began to gather an
hour or two before the time set for
the stages departure. To pass the
time pleasantly, the crowd Gall of
whom wore big slouch hats and car
ried pistols) speculated on the
chances of the stages getting to its
destination and told wild stories Of
the last time Capt Bill had been
"held up" and how much the ex-
press company had lost when the
highwaymen broke open the box
after killing the messenger. 1t was
at this time of day when the bar did
its biggest business, and if any one
among the crowd let it be known
that he was an adventurous traveller,
and intended making the trip to
Leadville, he was straightway assail-
ed on all side by invitations to try
the United States best whisky, and
advice was showered on him as to
how he should behave in case the
stage should suddenly come to a
halt, and the cry OF Hold up your
hands, gentlemen" should sound in
the night air.
The stage always left Denver in the
afternoon, because by SO doing the
country Immediately surrounding
the city, which was considered com
paratively safe, could be traversed
during the hours of dark, and the
hours of daylight could be utilized
to pass through those mountain gor-
ges and ravines where danger lurk-
ed behind every bowlder, and around
any curve of which a gang of heavily
armed and masked men might be
waiting to relieve the passengers Of
their valuables, and to use their
weapons if the slightest resistance
was offered.
All this is changed now. The
United State hotel has been relega-
ted to the place of a second class
hostelry. There are now no crowds
about its doors, and only an occa-
sional prospector from the hills,
whose hard luck has forced him to
return to the big city to renew his
stock Of provisions, can be seen
about its deserted halls with his feet
resting against the big stove medita-
lively expectorating tobacco juice on
the sanded floor. The glories of the
old stage are also passed. It's saved
from destruction, however, by some
of the old settlers who still have a
pride in it for the sake of the dam
gers it has passed. When the rail-
road to Leadville was completed and
the stage route had to be abandoned
these men bought the stage. They
built stable for it down on Car
mine street, and there it stands to-
day forgotten by everybody except
the few who pays for its keep, and
by Capt. Bill, who used to sit proud
ly on the box and steer it through
dangers, the thought of which would
turn an ordinary mans hair gray.
A short time ago, while in Denver,
l was taken to the stable and shown
the old stage. 1t is not much to
look at now. The paint has been
worn off the sides, and the leather
curtains, which used to be neatly
rolled up, now hang down mourn
fully and flap in the wind. While
l, with my guide, member of con-
gress, stood looking at the old stage
and trying to imagine some of the
scenes through which it had passed,
the stable door opened and an old
man entered. Although the new
comer's long beard was gray and
the hair which hung far down on his
shoulder from under his broad SOM
brero was white, he moved with such
an easy, swinging carriage and stood
so erect that he appeared some fif-
teen or twenty years younger than
he really was. What could be seen
of his face was tanned by constant
exposure to a color which resembled
well cured alligator skin. His eyes
were a very light blue and had a
very peculiar way of peeping out
from the wrinkles in which they
set, as though he were on the look
out for something sensational.
After l had seen the look of affec-
ton which he cast at the old stage I
was not surprised when my friend
introduced him as Capt Bill Cum
mings, the famous driver. At first
Cummings disinclined to talk,
and appeared to think that my